


Putting out Fire with Gasoline

by Ellimac



Category: Always Crashing in the Same Car (2007)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:17:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1321240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellimac/pseuds/Ellimac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim's thoughts about his and Bill's arrangement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Putting out Fire with Gasoline

He used to tell himself he got through it by pretending it was his wife. But his wife doesn’t have a cock to fuck him with, or a beard that scratches when he kisses her, and before long he has to admit to himself that he enjoys it for what it is.

He hates Bill. He hates his scrawny chest and his greasy hair and his scratchy beard, he hates the bruises he leaves, the hickeys, the bite marks. But in a twisted, cruel way, he relishes them. He looks in the mirror when he’s alone in the bathroom and examines them. These physical signs that mark him as belonging to Bill.

He can’t explain them away to his wife. He hasn’t slept with her in a month. She thinks he’s cheating on her. The worst part is that she’s right. And the longer it goes on, the more blackmail material Bill has. But he had enough to start with.

There is another reason he doesn’t sleep with his wife anymore. A darker reason. One he doesn’t say out loud and doesn’t even think except at night, when he has nothing else to distract him, and the thoughts come swarming in from the darkest corners of his mind.

A voice whispers to him, _she won’t satisfy you. Only he will. Only him fucking you will satisfy you now_.

When he jacks off, he tries to think of his wife. But instead, from the creeping corners of his mind come images of Bill. Bill’s tongue in his mouth. Bill’s unshaven face pressing against his own. Bill’s hand down Jim’s pants. Bill pressing into him, pushing, harder and faster and deeper. Bill groaning against his neck. Bill fucking his mouth with his hand in his hair. Bill holding him down and biting and sucking and licking all over his neck and shoulders and arms.

Jim hates himself. He hates Bill. He doesn’t know who he hates more. When Bill has him pressed up against the desk, fucking him hard, when he’s holding his head down so he can come into his mouth, he thinks it must be Bill he hates more. But when he gets off to it, when he leaves Bill’s office with an erection to go along with the lingering taste of semen, when he masturbates and all he thinks of is _Bill, Bill, Bill_ \- that’s when he’s sure he hates himself more.

It’s an obsession and he knows it. The only comfort is that he knows Bill cannot feel remotely the same. For Bill, it’s power. It’s getting the prime minister to kneel before him and suck his cock. It’s leaving him disoriented and breathless and hard, and not being able to do anything about it because he has a speech in five minutes. Bill could find power over anyone and it would get him off. There is nothing special about Jim, save for his being the prime minister. That he is, by all technicalities, Bill’s superior.

He tells himself, over and over again, that it is just sex. And as he comes, biting his lip so his wife doesn’t hear, he tries desperately to ignore the dark, whispering voices in the back of his mind telling him that it is so much more.


End file.
